


Old Stuff: Kabby Gingerbread House Ficlet

by ravensluna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensluna/pseuds/ravensluna
Summary: Kane and Abby build a gingerbread house between seasons 2 and 3, and angst and fluff ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Since I didn't have access to AO3 until fairly recently, I just put my fics on tumblr. Now I'm transferring everything over! This was my first ever fic, written 12/16/15.

“Why isn’t this working?!” Marcus muttered under his breath, tossing another broken piece of gingerbread onto the growing pile before him.

Beside him, Abby stifled a smile and held up the two pieces of gingerbread she was gluing together with icing. “Be gentle with it, Marcus!” she admonished him. “It’s gingerbread, not steel.” She set her gingerbread down and took another piece of gingerbread and squeezed icing down the side. Abby then pressed a second piece of gingerbread into the icing, making a right angle, and carefully handed it to him. “Hold that together, gently, while the icing hardens.”

Abby turned her attention back to her side of the table, where a gingerbread replica of the Ark was beginning to take shape. She was delicately joining two small pieces together to make part of the outer ring when a sudden outburst from Marcus startled her into breaking them.

“Damn it!” Marcus spat, dropping the remains of the gingerbread onto the table. He ran his hand through his hair, unknowingly smearing icing through it. “My hands just won’t stay steady anymore.”

He leaned on his forearms on the table, staring at nothing. Ever since the horrors the Sky People had faced inside Mount Weather, Marcus hadn’t slept soundly, and his hands had a perpetual tremble that he did his best to hide. And he hadn’t even been on the table, with a drill boring into his very bones to extract marrow. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Abby. Their quarters were right next door to each other, and since the walls were thin, he could hear her tossing and turning, and sometimes sobbing, every night.

Oh, how he always wanted to go next door and comfort her, but he didn’t know how Abby would react. He didn’t know how he would react, for that matter. He didn’t quite know how he felt toward her, but he knew he couldn’t live without her. So when Abby approached him with the idea of making a gingerbread model of the Ark, “for the kids,” he had jumped at the chance to be near her, to make sure that she was doing alright. Her hands didn’t shake, not like his did.

“Marcus.” Abby’s voice cut through the clamor in his head. She took his large, calloused hands in her own small ones.

He stood and looked at her. “How do you do it?” he asked, hating how his voice broke.

“Do what?”

“Just…go on with life, never letting anything touch you, not even the trauma of Mount Weather?”

“Oh, Marcus. It does touch me. I’m just- I’m very good at hiding things from the world.”

“I hear you tossing and turning all night long. I-” Marcus broke off, blinking hard. “I don’t want you to hide things from me. I need you, Abby.”

Abby put her hand on Marcus’ cheek. “I need you too, Marcus,” she confessed, trying, not to force her walls down, but to open a door in them. But starting to let everything she’d suppressed for the past few months out was too painful, and the door slammed shut.

“You have icing in your hair!” she exclaimed, back to her usual businesslike self. “Come sit down, and I’ll see if I can get it out.”

Marcus sat in the chair she indicated, feeling himself relax under her fingers. He was saddened by it being so hard for Abby to let her guard down around him, but he was glad that she had tried. Maybe the next time they were both tossing and turning all night long, he would go next door.

He found himself gazing up at her face as she worked on getting the icing out of his hair, noticing the slight furrow in her brows, the powdered sugar on her cheek, the way her ponytail swayed as she moved, and suddenly he knew exactly what he felt for her. Marcus acted before he could talk himself out of it, standing abruptly.

“Marcus, what-”

Marcus took her face in his hands and kissed her, their lips crashing together as Abby lunged forward. Her hands were in his hair again, and his hands moved from her face down to her back. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, as though she would vanish if he loosened his grip.

The gingerbread Ark stood, forgotten, on the table.


End file.
